


I Don't Want To Be Here Anymore

by orphan_account



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: About how you should treat your servants, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, And end up kidnapping Roman, And he's gonna get one from everybody BUT Patton, And so are Patton Logan and Janus, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Don't worry, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Logan Janus and Remus have a MINOR DISAGREEMENT with Patton, Multi, Remus is, Roman is not a prince, Roman really needs a hug, Sympathetic everyone else, Toxic Relationships, Unsympathetic Morality | Patton Sanders, but the good kind, for a very good reason
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:48:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27409090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Roman is a servant, newly appointed to be Patton's private servant. He dreads the job.Then, someone new comes into his life, someone he'd only ever heard of, but never met-- Prinx Remus of Kingdom Ignis, and they make a plan to get Roman out of the kingdom.Patton's not so keen to let go of his obedient little servant so soon after getting him.
Relationships: Creativity | Roman/Dark Creativity | Remus/Logic | Logan/Deceit | Janus
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31





	1. Roman is Patton's New Servant and He Doesn't Like It

**Author's Note:**

> First uploaded fic. Whoopee. If you're here, you're probably here from my secret Tumblr blog. If you're not, no, I'm not giving you the link. Sorry.  
> Anyways, this chapter contains some non-con elements, some implied intercourse, and this entire fic will be based around Unsympathetic Patton.  
> This fic was written because I got my first hate anons on Tumblr, telling me that I'm transphobic because I use neopronouns. As a result, I am writing this fic out of spite. As such, everyone except Patton, Logan, and Roman will be using neopronouns of some sort. Surprise!  
> Please enjoy.  
> (Psst: Remus and Roman aren't related in this AU! Don't give me that shit if you're an anti-shipper!)

Roman wasn't excited, to say the least.

Well, he was! Maybe... he didn't like Patton. His Highness was stuffy and obnoxious and whiny. And it was just his luck that he ended up being his new servant.

The title was thick and heavy and gross on his tongue. He'd always been a servant, a maid, even a cook at one point--although he hadn't done too well at that--, but he'd never served under the king, let alone the _prince_.

The prince made Roman nervous. Especially since he had magic. Every prince, every _royal_ has magic, that's what makes them the leaders! Prinx Remus of Kingdom Ignis, well... xe could control fire. Prince Logan of Kingdom Ventus could control the winds and their direction. Princex Janus of Kingdom Fraus could create illusions.

Prince Patton of Kingdom Glacies could control ice.

Roman had seen it, _felt_ it before, the way the ice spiked and grew on his fingers, forming long, dangerous claws. The way it grew from the floor, seeping in through the cracks in the wooden planks, making the ground brittle and breakable under Roman's weight. It was scary, knowing Patton had used it against other people-- innocent people, innocent chefs, innocent servants...

Himself. Patton had used it against him, once, when they were mere children. Patton was already a prince, had been since birth, but Roman was still waiting to get placed in a job. He--Roman--had been a small boy, and no matter how often he applied for it, no matter how well he performed on the tests or how much he wanted to be a soldier, a _knight_ to fight for his once mighty and honorable kingdom...

He failed. He failed and failed _every single time_. And the first time he had failed, he had sobbed and _sobbed_ , his whole body shaking as he wailed and cried. Patton had heard him, walked up to him under the guise of helping him.

When Roman had declined his help, wanting _nothing_ to do with the prince, _nothing_ to do with him and his deceiving, lying face because of _course_ it was Patton's fault that he didn't make it in...

Patton had struck him. His hands and fingers were covered in frost and ice, sharp and long and burning cold as he clawed and tore at Roman's face, barely missing his eye.

Roman still had the scar.

And now Roman was Patton's personal, private servant.

Roman didn't ask for this.

~~

Roman woke up, tired and filled with dread. First day. First day of working for Patton. He didn't want to do it, but it wasn't like he could just _disobey_ the king and his son's direct orders.

He got up, put on his suit, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, then left his room. His simple, modest room. Just a bed, a closet, a bathroom, a desk, and a chair. There was a window in the back showing off the royal gardens. Roman had contemplated stealing a rope and running away many, many times. He didn't know where he'd go, but he'd go somewhere.

He shook his head. It wasn't worth it.

He skipped breakfast, as per usual, making a beeline straight to Patton's door. The sky was a peachy red fading into cerulean blue, the sun yellow-orange in the dawn. Patton surely would not be awake, but Roman still had a job to do, and by the gods, he would do it right.

He took his keys, taking the newly added one and putting it in the lock. He tried to turn it the correct way to unlock the door, only to feel it stop, which would only happen if Patton hadn't actually _locked_ the door.

Roman rolled his eyes. Of _course_ the prince, the _prince_ , a manbaby with multiple people wanting his head for some quick money, didn't lock his door at night.

Then, Roman felt a flash of fear. Patton didn't lock his door at night. What if he'd been killed? Roman could easily be framed for that, he was the only one with the keys other than Patton himself, after all. He swallowed as he pulled the key out of the lock, stuffing the keys into his pocket as he slowly opened up the door.

A breath of relief was forcefully torn out of him. He didn't like that he was relieved that Patton was alive, but at least it meant one more day to live before he kicked the bucket.

He went inside, cleaning up the room as best he could. He'd only seen the inside twice, and only of the bedroom; once was when he was seventeen and Patton had dragged him in for a little _fun,_ and the second time was yesterday. Once again, dragged in by Patton, but this time it was so he'd know where to put everything.

He couldn't help the face he pulled at the sight of Patton's bathroom. It was huge, and it was _disgusting_. Soap was dripping down the tub, the mirror was covered in grime, the walls mustn't have been cleaned in at least a millennia, and the sink counter was just so, _so_ cluttered. The sink itself was covered in some sort of dirt, and the floors were filled to the brim with the same gunk as the sink! He _dreaded_ to look in the cabinets.

He groaned to himself. It was too early for this.

Roman put himself to work, grabbing a sponge and cleaning up the tub, setting the soaps in their proper containers, making sure the faucet actually worked. _That_ was how he found out the drain was severely clogged. He plugged his nose as he unclogged it, gagging at all the hair. Not all of it was Patton's hair, he could tell.

 _Disgusting_.

As soon as _that_ was over, he went to the sink. He organized it properly. Soap and cleansers on the right; brushes, hair ties, and glasses cleaner on the left. He put the extra toilet paper that was, for some, un _godly_ reason, left in a haphazard pile on the counter, into the small closet nearby. He sprayed down the mirror and wiped it down many, many times just to get all the grime and gross stuff _off_ , then moved on to the walls.

He focused on one bit at a time, getting as high as he could as he kept working. The dirt was persistent, sticking on just to spite him and his sponge and his towel and is cleaning spray. He contemplated getting something stronger. He shook his head. It wasn't worth it. Wasn't worth risking waking Patton up.

He finished the walls as best he could, about to move on to the floor. He hadn't even noticed the hours passing, too engrossed in his task. He could barely bend down to get on his knees when he felt arms around his waist, a tired, raspy hum next to his ear.

He paled.

Patton was awake.

"I don't remember giving you permission to be in here while I was asleep, darling," Patton purred softly. "What if you were to kill me?"

"I-I would never think it, your Highness," Roman said quickly. A little _too_ quickly. Apparently, Patton's still-half-asleep brain didn't seem to catch it.

"That's good," he said quietly, resting his chin on Roman's shoulder. Roman forced himself to relax. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm cleaning," he said, his voice cracking slightly from the relief of Patton _not_ pushing him to explain how fast he spoke before. "I have been since dawn."

Patton yawned. "That's so long, Roro. You must've been in here for hours."

"I hadn't noticed the time going by," Roman squeaked out as Patton's hands trailed up Roman's sides.

"Aren't you tired, Roman...?" he asked softly.

"No, you're Highness."

"Then how about you finish cleaning, then go get me some breakfast? I'm _famished_."

"Yes, your highness," Roman said quietly, squirming under Patton's touch. Patton must've noticed his discomfort and, with a disappointed look on his face, pulled away. Roman relaxed, just a little, just enough to let himself breathe.

"I expect you to be finished with this in half an hour," Patton said. "I'm going to be working. Don't bother me until you have my food."

"Yes, your Highness."

Patton left the bathroom.

Roman didn't ask for this.


	2. Prinx Remus' Family Had Been Sent to Kingdom Glacies To Improve Relations And Talk About Wars, And Roman Didn't Know Until He Served Them At Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman meets Remus for the first time and is utterly terrified, especially since he didn't know Remus would be coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyy, we're meeting Remus  
> Warning: Lots of implications of non-con/rape, abuse, suicidal idealizing, and a small death mention. The first two will be regular themes throughout the story. Please, please be safe.  
> (There's also a short mention of spiders.)

Roman... didn't like Prince Patton.

Now, that was a given, of course, but that didn't mean he wasn't allowed to say it.

Didn't mean he couldn't say it over and over again in the mirror. Didn't mean he couldn't say it as he went to bed. Didn't mean he couldn't repeat it like a mantra as he fell asleep whenever Patton forced him into doing things he really _really_ didn't want to do. He said it over and _over_ , just to spite every single time that Patton told Roman that he didn't hate Patton, that he loved him.

He didn't love Patton.

He washed himself thoroughly with soap, choking back another, painful sob. His wrists and neck burned a bright, neon red from Patton's ice holding him against the wall, and they burned worse with every drop of hot, boiling water that touched them. It burned, gods, how it _burned_. Every drop of water that touched the rings were immediately frozen to ice cold. Then, it dripped down his body, down his back, and he could barely hold in a shudder. He didn't like that he couldn't stop it without feeling the cold of his own skin.

But the feeling reminded him that he was still here, still _alive_. And that was a good thing, it had to be! It was. It was. The longer he was alive, the more chances he had to get away from the castle in a safe way.

Roman didn't exactly _want_ to be alive right now.

He kept scrubbing himself clean, the purple loofa rubbing his skin raw, scraping his neck and wrists. the sound of the water from the shower pounded around him as he sat on his knees. It filled his ears with something other than his own thoughts. It was nice, but it hurt in a way, not to be able to hear himself. His hair was slicked against his face, slimy and gross, but it was better than feeling nothing. He swallowed, rubbing at his wrists, then immediately drew his hands away.

"That's going to take a while to warm up," he whispered hoarsely to himself, simply just to hear his own words over the drilling pain of the shower's water bouncing on the tub. He knew he shouldn't be talking, it was bad for his throat. But he didn't care at the moment, he didn't want to care, he had much bigger things to worry about.

How long had it been since he got in the shower? How long had he held this loofa, mindlessly scrubbing at his skin until it was pink? He held onto the loofa a little tighter, glancing around in the dark. He always liked showering in the dark, but this was different. It was bad. It was disorienting, he couldn't see. Where was the curtain? Where were the walls? He couldn't remember, too tired to think and make sense of things. Too tired to do anything.

He yawned, figuring now would probably be a good time to get up and leave the shower before he turned into one big raisin.

He cleaned out the loofa, scrubbing it just as it had scrubbed him, getting as much of the soap out as possible. He rinsed his skin, wincing occasionally as he touched his wrists, his neck. He stood up, his legs shaking from the effort as he set the loofa on its rack. He took in a deep, deep breath as he turned off the faucet, resisting the shivers as the cold of the bathroom descended upon him, no longer blocked by hot water. He turned slowly until he found the shower curtains, slowly pushing them open. He grabbed his towel, drying off his hair and torso, then got out, squishing his toes into the mat beneath his feet.

He squinted as best he could in preparation, reaching for the light switch. He flicked it on, wincing at the light and covering his eyes as he turned on the fan to get rid of the steam. He went back to drying himself off, avoiding the clothes on the ground. He didn't want to go to sleep with wet, soggy clothes.

As soon as he was mostly dry, he hung his towel back up. He put his warm, woolen clothes. The material rubbed and stung his raw skin slightly, but that was okay. He brushed his teeth, and the mint burned his tongue and cheeks, and that was okay, too. He rubbed his face with a soft towel to calm himself down. That didn't hurt. But it was still okay.

He opened the door, turning off the lights and fan again. He stumbled a little, shuffling his feet over onto his carpet. The soft carpet, cool against his toes, but not burning cold like his skin. A pleasant cold. It was a nice texture, too. It was okay.

He laid down on the sheets, not even bothering to get under them as he pulled his blanket over himself. He found his thumb in his mouth a moment later. He gently sucked on it, a habit he'd had since he was a young child.

It had taken years to convince himself of the fact, but him still sucking on his thumb, especially in moments of stress, was okay, too. It didn't make him a bad person. It didn't make him childish. It didn't make him unloveable, no matter how much his mind tried to tell him. It was okay.

But Roman wasn't okay.

~~

Roman woke up the next morning, achy and exhausted, his mouth filled with the taste of copper and the feeling of cotton. The dawn shined through his window casting a gold-yellow-orange-pink glow on his walls. It was beautiful, but he didn't want to see the beauty at that moment. He just wanted to sleep. God, he wanted to sleep so _badly_. Just a few more hours, _a few more days_ even. The blankets were warm and heavy and cozy on top of him. The sheets were gentle and fluffy as they wrapped around him like they never had been before. The pillow fit his head perfectly, it smelled like lavender and honey from just being recently washed.

His limbs and body felt heavy. His eyelids were tied to boulders. His breathing was calm and deep, and he was still just barely not awake enough, just enough that he could convince himself that sleeping would be better, that he _wouldn't_ get fired from his job, that nothing bad would happen if he just... i-if he just... got a few more hours of sleep...

He was dead wrong. That was wrong. If he didn't do his job, he'd get fired. He'd lose everything. He was given a responsibility to take care of Patton. No matter how much he dreaded it, he had to, or he'd have _nothing_. This room was a privilege. The hot shower, the bed, the soft carpet, they were all privileges. His nice clothes, the soft blankets.

He couldn't afford to lose them.

With the thought in mind, he tore his body from the bed. It felt like trying to move a tree, he could almost hear the creaking of old wood bending under its own weight. Outside of the blankets, his used-to-be-nice nightclothes were uncomfortable. The old fabric was too light to provide comfort, but they were far too warm due to the way they were made.

He went through his morning routine, stripping himself and putting on his suit. The fabric was crinkly and chafed against his skin, against his raw wrists and neck, and it was cold against all the wrong areas. The icy injuries still hurt from last night, even if they were no longer cold. They shouldn't hurt like this anymore. He didn't quite care.

His brain was too tired to care.

He went into the bathroom and tried to brush his hair. It caught on the knots painfully, however, tugging on them as Patton's fingers had. He swallowed a whimper and set down the brush, just pulling his hair into a ponytail to hide the mess. He rubbed makeup into his skin. He didn't like the way it tugged at his face or the way it plugged up his pores. He put on a simple, light layer, just barely enough to hide the bruises and imperfections. He paused for just a moment before he could brush his teeth, then shook his head and grabbed the mouthwash. He didn't have time for teethbrushing. This might wake him up a bit more, anyway.

He didn't bother to make his bed or tidy up the towels or put away the things on the counter. It didn't matter. It wasn't like anybody else would see it unless he got fired, and he didn't think he would. It was okay if Roman did just the bare minimum for today, he needed a break for once. He deserved it.

He left the room, slowly walking to Patton's. It was eerily quiet. He didn't like the way the bottoms of his boots click-click-clicked on the immaculately cleaned tile floor. Didn't like the way the outside was still semi-dark, barely putting any light into the hallways through the large windows spanning from the next floor up and the bottom of this one. The early sunrise was like that.

He missed cleaning the floors. It was grueling work, just one floor could take hours if you were sweeping and mopping and doing everything. It had made his back muscles ache like they never had before.

But he'd rather do that than work for Patton.

He got to the door and unlocked it--finally, Patton started locking his door--and carefully stepped inside. He started cleaning. It was sloppier than usual. He didn't place things in exactly the right spots, didn't scrub with as much vigor, didn't tiptoe as much around the sleeping prince. But that was okay. Patton was a deep sleeper, and Patton had lived in such a mess not very long ago that he wouldn't notice it.

He wouldn't notice it.

Right?

~~

Roman woke up to a harsh tug on his ponytail. He whimpered, wincing at his own sound as he was dragged to his feet, made to face Patton's cold, quiet anger, his steely glare, his raised eyebrow.

"Roman, tell me... why exactly are you sleeping on the job?" he murmured softly, cupping one of his cheeks. "You know you're not supposed to do that. It's so irresponsible of you. You're supposed to protect me while you clean. I could just have you fired."

Roman _wasn't_ supposed to protect Patton, that was the job of his personal guards. But of course, Patton always sent them away. Roman knew why he sent him away.

He didn't want to think about it.

Then, his brain caught up with the rest of what Patton had said-- he could be _fired_. His breath caught in his throat, his eyes wide, his exhaustion shoved out through his ears.

"N-no, please-- please, Patton, don't," he begged quickly, his voice hoarse. "It-- i-it was a simple mistake, I... I-I hadn't gotten much sleep last night a-and I finished, s-so I sat down to wait a-and I must've drifted..."

He trailed off, watching as Patton's eyes narrowed. "Ad you didn't _bother_ to spend the rest of that time while I was asleep to fix your sloppiness?"

Shit.

He'd noticed, _fuck_ , he'd _noticed_!

Roman felt his breathing pick up. His throat closed. This could be the end, he could lose _everything_ \--

Patton must've noticed his panic.

"Strike one, Mr. Kingsley," he spat. "Two more mistakes like this and you're fired."

Roman nodded shakily, gripping onto the counter. Patton tugged once more on his ponytail, drawing a wince out of Roman, then let go of his hair.

"Get me breakfast. I'll let the laziness slide for today, and today _only_. Next time, it's another two hours of _deep cleaning_. And I'll be _watching_."

Roman nodded again. "Yes, your Highness," he whispered. "Thank you."

Patton clicked his tongue disapprovingly but said nothing. He left Roman in the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

God, Roman was so, _so_ fucked.

~~

The rest of the day was painful, achy, tiring, terrifying. And so, so painful. Patton hadn't reported Roman's misconduct, nor did he fire him, but he made him do a lot more than he usually made him do. He _begged_ like a kitten for every little thing to be done for him. He demanded, snapped, and Roman could tell he was so, so very angry. It was different, it was unpleasant and scary, but at least Patton's attention wasn't focused on Roman's body, on how it could be used. That was one thing Roman was grateful for.

Roman didn't get more energy throughout the day. He was falling asleep on his feet every few minutes, rubbing his eyes and yawning-- only to shut his mouth and put his hands stiffly by his sides every time Patton looked at him.

But it was finally, _finally_ dinner time. He could get Patton his dinner and be done for the day. He could take a shower, relax his muscles, maybe write a short drabble. He could _sleep_.

However, his dreams were crushed yet again.

"Roman, darling, we're eating in the dining hall tonight. And you're going to be serving."

He made a soft sound. There went his plans for leisure. He wondered, however, why was Patton eating in the dining hall? That was... peculiar. Peculiar indeed, the dining hall was only ever used for parties, or to show off their wealth to guests, usually _royal_ guests. But Roman had never been informed of any guests nor any party, and he always knew when that was happening.

However, he knew he wouldn't be in the dining hall for long. He probably wouldn't even get a taste of the food they'd eat. It was off-limits for servants and staff like him.

He remembered he still hadn't said anything, snapping out of his thoughts as he looked at Patton.

"U-um, yes, your Highness," he said hastily, rushing off to the kitchen. At least, rushing as much as he could without tripping over his own boots. He remembered the kitchens, remembered the smell, usually delicious. Remembered getting cake batter all over his face whenever there was a party, his fellow cooks being as playful as they could while still getting work done. He'd been younger then, happier, and so had all the chefs.

Things were different now.

He pushed open the doors, ignoring the small smiles as his old coworkers recognized him, ignoring the way they turned into frowns of concern as they saw the look on his face, the way his tense body still sagged under the weight of his clothes and his anxiety. Ignored the way one of them briefly reached out to him, shrugging off their hand as he went to one of the pre-prepared carts.

One of the chefs got close to him. "Mr. Kingsley, what's going on?" they asked. He was briefly startled by being called a more formal name by someone who he had once been on equal levels with. Forgot that servants of royals were higher ranked than chefs, even if they were normally lower.

"It's nothing," he said quietly. "Don't worry about it."

Their universal frown deepened. "Come meet me, then?" they requested. "Please? Later today, or tomorrow."

"I don't have the time, James. I still have to work," Roman said, and James clearly noticed the edge in his voice. They hugged him, pulling him close.

"Try. Please. Get more sleep and try in a few days at night, when nobody'll see you," they said softly.

Roman looked down. "I-I--"

"For me, Ro," they whispered. "For me."

Roman looked at them, at their pleading eyes, and reluctantly nodded.

"Okay," he said softly, hugging them loosely back, gently patting their shoulder. "I'll try. For you."

James relaxed, leaning into him. "Thank you," they said softly, pressing their face against Roman's chest. Roman smiled weakly, and it felt off, like he'd forgotten how to smile.

"Only for you, Jamesie. Only for you."

~~

The doors were grand. The mahogany wood was intricately carved with stories of dragons and knights, of princesses and princes. Roman remembered the stories by heart; his mother had told them to him when he was still little; when she was still alive. The doorframe was lined with gold paint. It wasn't actually gold, it was just some cheap metal, but Kingdom Glacies liked to look rich. Anyone with actual experience with gold, however, could tell the difference in seconds. Roman could tell the difference because he'd been told.

Beside the doors was a silver plate, labeled **THE ROYAL DINING HALL**. Roman knew this place well, but he'd never been inside before. That was a privilege that not even he had. Only a few special soldiers, exemplary servants, and rich (wannabe-)allies could get in.

None of those had ever described Roman before.

He took in a deep breath and pushed the (heavy) doors open, glancing around as he pulled the cart in after him.

His first impressions were... underwhelming. Ignoring the people, the room was big with a long table. There was a stage in the back along with a large window, currently shaded by big, golden drapes. The tiled floor was an icy blue, and the walls were a creamy white with royal purple vines.

Nothing like Roman had ever imagined, truly.

Roman went over to the table, pushing the cart carefully until it was in front of him, being extremely delicate as to not tip anything over. He glanced at the guests. All royals. One king and his son (Patton and his father), one king and his princess consort and their child.

It took a moment before it clicked. The mustache, the mismatched eyes, the fluffy, wild hair currently pulled back into a messy bun. It was the royals of Kingdom Ignis. It was Prinx Remus and xyr family. And they'd apparently been waiting for dinner to arrive before getting into the messier business.

Roman stifled a yawn, pretending it was just a deep breath to ease his nerves. It wasn't a total lie, he told himself as he started setting out the plates and the food.

"Who's that?" the Prinx asked.

"A servant, Remus," xyr father muttered, already irritated with xem apparently.

"Really? But the clothes are really fancy," xe said. Roman winced, trying to shove down the slight amount of shame, the feeling of undeservedness welling up in his stomach and curling in his lungs.

"He's my servant," Patton said, his voice haughty and proud like usual.

"Then why is he serving food? Shouldn't he be taking a break? Hanging out with friends?" Remus asked. "He can't be working all day, and being the personal servant of a royal usually entails being there for their every need until dinner."

"I ordered him to serve us," Patton said. Roman could hear the slight offended whine, but apparently, Prinx Remus couldn't.

"That's... that's kind of cruel. Especially since you apparently don't expect him to be eating with us. He needs a break at some point, and the doors are heavy."

Roman took a breath, stepping away to start heading out.

"He'll be off of his shift once he's finished," Patton said. Remus hummed, quirking an eyebrow as xe turned to look at Roman. He could barely contain the uncomfortable shivers, the spiders crawling in his skin.

"Hey, mind if you come to talk to me once we're out of here?" xe asked. Roman was just about to respond, his mouth moving to form the first words, but he was cut off.

"Remus, you can't just ask that," xyr mother snapped. "We're not in our kingdom, this isn't where you reign. You must ask permission."

"He can go ahead and take him," Patton said.

" _Xe_ ," Remus hissed. Roman could almost see Patton rolling his eyes. "Now, since I have permission," xe slowly said; Roman turned to look at xem, "could you please come to my room once the dinner is finished?"

Roman hesitated before nodding. "Yes, your Highness," he said quietly. He barely caught the grin stretching to Remus' eyes as he looked away, rushing out of the room.

God, he was so, _so_ fucked.

He wasn't okay.


	3. Prinx Remus Is Actually A Lot Nicer Than Roman Expected, But Also A Lot More Protective Of Roman Than He Expected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman goes to Remus' room, and they talk.  
> Roman...  
> Roman is okay at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This one isn't edited, I'm far too tired for that. I might edit it later into Thanksgiving break, but don't count on it.
> 
> This chapter has a lot of panic attacks, a very minor amount of (nonsexual) nonconsensual touching but it quickly gets rectified, more panic attacks, talk of Patton in an unsympathetic light, bruises from abuse, a nightmare and the effects of it, and questioning if Remus is any better than Patton at the very end. I cut this one a little short because I really wanted to get it out, but it's still a good bit longer than the last one.

Roman swallowed slightly, standing in front of Remus' door. Remus had told him when he was delivering his second and final cart of food to come in pajamas-- Remus didn't want Roman to feel like he was overdressed, apparently.

He knocked on the door nervously, hoping that none of his makeup had wiped off. He didn't want Remus to see anything. However, he had (reluctantly) taken off the hair tie, hoping Remus didn't notice the knots or try to pet Roman.

The door unlocked and creaked open, showing an... unexpectedly _tall_ Remus. Xe must've been a full foot taller than little Roman, and it was terrifying. Roman half expected Remus to squish him like a bug.

Instead of crushing him, Remus lit up like lanterns on the winter solstice. Xe was covered from head to toe in thick, green-and-yellow pajamas decorated with pom-pom balls and loose strings. Xyr hair was a bit wilder than before.

"You came!" xe said. "Ohmygosh, you really came! Aw, and you're so _small_!"

Roman could feel his face burning up from embarrassment, he was sure Remus could see it through the makeup. "I'm not _that_ small," he said, barely _not_ grumbling, "you're just _tall_."

Remus giggled. "Uh-huh. Sure buddy," xe said. "Come on. I have a pillow fort set up and everything. I think you'll like it."

Roman blinked, not exactly sure how to tell Remus that he didn't exactly know what a pillow fort was. But he wouldn't have gotten the chance anyways, as Remus was already grabbing his hand and pulling him into xyr room, and he saw a huge... _something_ , made out of pillows and blankets and spare chairs with the lamp underneath. And Roman was gently tugging his hand away from Remus'. He didn't quite realize what he was doing, he just didn't like the way Remus' hand around his made his heart pound or his breathing pick up, but it was too late to pretend he was just adjusting his grip on xyr hand because now his hand was against his chest and Remus was _looking_ at him, and the smile was gone, there was a frown now, fuck, Roman had done something _wrong again_ \--

"Are you alright?" xe asked quietly. "I'm sorry, I should've asked if I could do something like that."

Roman's brain stuttered to a halt. _What?_ What did xe mean? Xe didn't--

"You don't have to apologize," he whispered. "I-I-- sorry, I--"

"Nope, nuh-uh. You're not apologizing to me. I did something wrong, you deserve an apology, whether you'll accept it or not. Now, are you okay?"

Roman looked at xyr face. Concern, worry, with an underlying sternness to it. Protectiveness. It... made Roman feel a little better. Not much, but a little. He nodded. "I-I'm alright, your Highness."

Remus smiled a little. "You don't need to call me that. I'm not your prinx. I could just be a random person. Call me Remus," xe said.

"N-no, no, it's only respectful. You're still royalty," Roman said.

"I insist. Please," Remus said. "You can call me your Highness in public, but we're not in public right now. It's just us, okay? Call me Remus."

Roman glanced at the still-open door. Anyone could walk by and hear their conversation. But at the same time, if... if the door was closed, there was just that little bit more between Roman and relative safety.

Was privacy with Remus worth that risk?

Remus decided for him, stepping past him and closing the door. "Sorry, I should've closed it-- you'd probably feel a bit better with it closed, yeah?"

"U-um... yes, your Highness," he said quietly, trying not to panic. "I-I'm sorry, I just--"

"Can I hug you?" Remus asked, cutting Roman off. "Cause it looks like you really need a hug."

Roman watched xem, then nodded stiffly, trying to keep his trembling to a minimum as Remus carefully pulled him close.

"You'll be okay, bud," xe murmured. "It'll be okay." Xyr hands didn't go anywhere Roman expected. They just stayed on his back and sides, holding him gently, but in a firm grip. Roman's hand, still up against his chest, was pressed against Remus' pajamas. They were soft. They were warm.

Roman took in a shaky breath, blinking the tears out of his eyes, slowly leaning his head against Remus' chest. Remus, in response, only held him closer, tighter, one hand coming up and hooking on his shoulder. Roman forced himself to relax in xyr hold.

"I'm sorry. I overstepped my boundaries earlier at the dining hall when I told you to come here without knowing if you'd be okay with it, and I overstepped them again when I grabbed your hand without consent. You didn't deserve that," xe murmured. Xyr voice was soft and kind and sincere, everything Patton's voice wasn't.

"It's okay," Roman whispered. His voice was about to shatter, he felt like _he_ was about to shatter if Remus kept being so fucking _nice_ to him.

"Okay."

They stood there like that, and it was quiet. Remus held onto Roman, and Roman may or may not have shed a few tears, but he trusted that Remus wouldn't tell anyone. He didn't think xe would.

Remus was nice, so much nicer than xe oughta be. And Roman might not have trusted xem fully, at least not yet, but he trusted xem one hell of a lot more than he trusted Patton.

And they were... peaceful. The pillow fort in the back of the room--Roman assumed it was a pillow fort--had been forgotten. And Remus was warm, so, _so_ warm. And there was a soft humming that sounded like xem, but Roman was just too tired to check.

God, he was tired. He was tired of everything, of Patton using him, of being worked like a dog, of not being told things, of not being able to eat when he really, _really_ needed to.

But most of all, he was just... tired. Exhausted, even, and he feared he might fall asleep in Remus' arms. The adrenaline from before, of being told about the dinner at the last minute, of being told to go to Remus' room without explanation, of his hand being grabbed... it was gone.

He let his hand slide off of his chest, let his arms hang limply at his sides. He yawned, careful not to get slobber all over Remus' shirt. He didn't lean his full body weight against Remus, though, scared of what xe would say. But xe seemed to get the message.

"Do you want to go into the pillow fort, or do you want to go on the bed?" xe asked softly. "You seem a bit sleepy."

"I'm fine," Roman grumbled, too tired to care how his tone would be taken.

Remus, thankfully, just snorted and asked, "Can I pick you up?"

Roman mumbled something, incoherent to even himself, and nodded. Remus bent down a little, wrapping the arm that had been around his back around the back of his knees, shifting the one on his shoulder to where the other arm used to be. Then, xe gently lifted him up, clearly being very careful.

Roman's heart pounded for a second, his throat tightening before he reminded himself that xe wouldn't hurt him. Not in the way that Patton did, at least. And he told himself to calm down, and he pushed his face against Remus' shoulder. He slowly inhaled, his nose twitching at the scent of mustard. He exhaled as Remus started carefully moving. Just a few little steps. Then, Remus sat down on what must've been xyr bed, wrapping xyr arms around Roman apparently protectively.

And Roman felt safer than he ever had since working with Patton.

He yawned again, curling against xem.

"Go ahead and rest," xe said. "I'll be here when you wake up."

That wouldn't normally have been so reassuring to Roman. But coming from Remus, it was. Xe was safe to be around, at least right now.

His mind reminded him of his job before he could feel _too_ safe, however. And it was very _unhelpful_.

"But I-I need to wake up at dawn," he mumbled. "I need to be awake to work for Prince Patton..."

"Nuh-uh," Remus said. "You're not doing that. I think you've been overworked, considering how tired you are right now and knowing Patton himself since he was a child. You need a break tomorrow. If Patton has a problem with that, then he gets to talk to me about it. You need to rest, and you'll get a full night's sleep, then you're getting eggs and bacon for breakfast tomorrow because I don't think you're eating enough just from how light you are."

Roman shook his head. "Won't have time, can't... I-I can't... can't risk losing my job," he protested, squirming in Remus' hold, sitting up as best he could. "I already fucked up today, I ca-an't fail a-again--"

"How often has he made you work for over ten hours without a break or food?"

Roman paused. "I-I..." he trailed off, not exactly sure how to answer that truthfully without worrying Remus more.

It felt so weird to be worrying about making someone else worried, especially worried about _him_.

"That doesn't sound too promising. I'm going to assume it's a lot. Which means he is, at least by Kingdom Ignis' standards, illegally overworking and exploiting you for some kind of profit or gain."

Roman could think of more ways that Patton was exploiting him.

He shook his head. "He-- I-I can't risk--"

"No. I'm sorry, but no. I'm not letting him do that. You're taking a break tomorrow, mkay? He can get someone else to organize his closet or to clean up his room and bathroom. Or, better yet, he can do it himself."

"This isn't your kingdom..." Roman argued weakly, looking down, refusing to look Remus in the eyes.

"Maybe, but my kingdom is a useful and powerful ally. And I know that if I tell my dad what's going on here, that there is abuse going on committed by the prince himself, then one of two things will happen. Either all communications between the royals will cease and my dad will end our current treaties with Kingdom Glacies, or things will change for you. Most likely for the better. And considering that I don't think Kingdom Glacies wants to lose Kingdom Ignis as a friend, and by extension, a few of _our_ allies, then I'm thinking it'll be the latter."

Roman swallowed, his tired brain working overtime to try and figure out what to do. His anxiety and common sense fought against the need for warmth and good sleep. If the first one did happen, then he wouldn't be able to talk to Remus again. This was the first time he'd ever talked to xem, but xe was so nice...

But he needed sleep. He needed food. He needed just one day to take a break, to relax a little bit, to hold on to whatever little bit of sanity he had left so he didn't give up.

His tiredness won out after several minutes of trying to decide, and Roman slowly nodded, leaning against Remus again.

"Okay," he mumbled.

"Okay."

It was quiet for a few moments. Roman started drifting off. He heard Remus speaking, but he didn't really process it. He just hummed in response instead of saying actual words, because speaking was hard, especially when he was nodding off. Listening was also hard. But that was okay. He needed sleep.

He needed sleep.

~~

Roman startled awake, his muscles jolting and tensing up, his legs kicking slightly before tucking up against his chest. His breath caught in his throat before he could make any meaningful noises. He didn't even remember his dream except for a few horrible flashes that kept repeating in his mind over and _over_ again.

It was apparently enough of a reaction to get someone's attention, maybe even to wake them up. Wasn't it Remus there before? He could hardly remember. He felt a hand cupping his cheek, another arm pulling him up into a sitting position and pulling him close. Roman whimpered and curled into a ball, his hands going up and yanking on his hair, tugging at the knots.

His hands were immediately pulled away from his hair and he was picked up. The person holding him was trying to be careful, but Roman could feel every twitch, every jostle at a hundred times intensity.

And then, it stopped, and a faucet was turned on and his hands were forced under freezing water. He whimpered, his hands trembling. Something obstructed the water flow, then left, and he felt a cool, wet rag rubbing on his face. He panicked a bit more, remembering the makeup. Would it wash off? What would this person think of the bruises? Or would it not come off, would it be permanently stuck to his face, a heavy, sticky, constant weight?

"Hey, buddy, it's just me," the person said softly. "Prinx Remus. You're okay. It was just a dream, you're safe with me, alright?"

Roman whimpered, choking on his breath.

"You're okay. We can talk about the bruises later, but I need you to breathe right now, okay? I'll breathe with you if it'll help."

He let out a broken, pitiful sob. He hadn't wanted this, this wasn't his intention. He broke down in their-- in Remus' arms, his whole body trembling, his eyes filling with tears and snot building up in his nose and spilling onto his upper lip. Remus just gently cleaned him up and held him close, murmuring assurances to him.

This wasn't normal. Roman hadn't had a nightmare like this since his mother had passed, this wasn't... why was this happening? And in front of Remus of all people?

He couldn't tell. His head was pounding too loudly to think. But the cold water on his hands was slowly grounding him as his brain caught up to the present, even if it was occasionally interrupted by whatever heavenly towel Remus was using to try and keep his face from getting too messy.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, but it came out in choppy snippets of whimpers and cries. He removed his hands from the water, grasped at Remus' sleeve desperately. He didn't want xem to leave. He didn't want xem to leave him alone again, god, he was _terrified_ of being alone again.

"You'll be okay, buddy. It'll all be okay," xe murmured, gently grabbing and holding his hands. "The panic you're feeling right now will pass, alright? Just put your hands back under the water. You're doing great. Just keep breathing. I won't leave you."

Roman knew he wasn't doing great, he knew that his breathing was worse than that of a corpse, but the affirmation helped him at least a little, even if he didn't totally believe it. He let Remus put his hands back under the water, let xem turn it up a little warmer. The new, warmer water stung his cold hands, but it was better.

He was slowly doing better. He was calming down, the panic was beginning to subside. He was okay, he was with Remus. Xe wouldn't hurt him.

He leaned against xem a little more, pulling his hands out from under the water and rubbing his face. He swallowed down a yawn, clamping his jaws tight to stop it from escaping.

He was... tired. So, so tired. Remus wiped down his face on last time, then hugged him close. Roman slowly relaxed against xem.

"Let's get some food in you," Remus murmured. "It might help a bit." Roman simply nodded in response, letting xem pick him up again, hold him against xyr chest like a child. He loosely clung to xem, hoping xe wouldn't get tired of him. Xe was wonderful, just... amazing, and as much as he loathed to admit it, he did enjoy being taken care of for once rather than the other way around.

He knew this couldn't last.

He might as well enjoy it while it did.

"If we run into your prince, I will talk to him. You don't have to worry about it, okay?"

"Okay."

He barely caught the small smile on Remus' face, but when he did, he found it burned into his head. What did it mean? Was xe-- was xe angry? Or upset in some way? Or did xe enjoy taking care of him?

Was it the way he was hurting? Did xe enjoy seeing him like that? Did xe enjoy seeing him in pain, grasping at xem for comfort, to be his savior?

Was xe just like Patton? Was xe going to hurt him over and over, just to see him weakened like this?

Xe might not have hurt him yet, but...

Was xe truly any better than Patton...?


End file.
